*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy Summers was hot. And not in that, 'blonde bomb shell, green eyed, shapely tanned legs that go on for days' kind of hot, either. Hot in the 'stranded on a desert road in the blazing, melt your brain, heat of the Arizona sun' kind of way. And she had been for nearly two hours now. It was a few minutes after 7:00 and she had yet to see another car on the road.

She sighed, popping the last bit of her granola bar in her mouth and taking a long gulp of Grape flavored water before opening the door of her custom ordered bubble gum pink Bentley. She stood, stretching her cramped muscles, then poured the remaining water down the front of her back tank top.

A moan of pleasure escaped her lips as the cool liquid ran down her neck, along the valley between her breasts, and down her toned stomach. She stretched again as the water momentarily cooled her skin, and then flopped back down on the tan leather seats of her car.

"Any minute now," Buffy mused, staring down the empty road.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was almost 11:00.

She wasn't scared. Not even when the occasional animal made a funky noise that was suspiciously close. Oh, no. Not scared. She was pissed. She was Buffy Anne Summers - daughter of Hank Summers, head cheerleader, honor student, homecoming queen, student body president, not to mention the winner of countless beauty pageants and talent shows. And she'd been stranded for over five hours.

No one had come looking for her. And if anyone had called, she wouldn't know. Her cell phone had no service in this god forsaken place. So she sat, cursing her father and her own stupidity. Her stomach growled. The last thing she had to eat was over three hours ago and she was starved.

"Toughen up, Summers," she muttered to herself, disgusted that she'd gotten herself into this predicament. She should've planned ahead. She should have called Winifred to let her know that, due to her father's complete disregard for her feelings, she would be driving down for her visit a week earlier than planned.

Instead, she'd let her emotions cloud her judgment, as per usual, and look where it had gotten her. The thought of walking to the nearest town had crossed her mind. However the last town she'd gone through had been two hours back and all she had been able to see in the opposite direction when the sun was still up was desert, desert and, oh yea, desert.

Suddenly she realized just how alone she was. No one knew where to look for her even if they knew to look in the first place. She had no food, no water and no blankets and the temperature was dropping rapidly. The fear of hypothermia crossed her mind.

"That'd be just like you to freeze to death in the middle of a desert, Buffy," She sighed, dropping her head into her hands. "God, I'm such a dumbass."

Trying desperately not to panic and keep her breathing under control, Buffy laid her head back against the seat and allowed herself to slip into a light slumber.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


"Your mother is dead, Buffy! And I've moved on. It's time you did the same. I care about Cindy and if you'd just give her a chance--"

"Oh! You care about her! I'm sorry Dad. I didn't realize that you cared about her! I thought she was just another piece of ass. Y'know like Holly, Kara, Michelle, Tina, Georgette..."

"That's enough, Buffy." Hank's voice was cold; his face red as he glared at her.

"You know what, Hank? You're absolutely right. That is enough. I'm leaving."

"No the hell you're not. You're going to go back downstairs and you're going to apologize to Cindy for everything you said."

"I am not apologizing to your whore. And it doesn't matter anyway. Give me half an hour to pack and you and Cindy can have the house all to yourselves."

"You are not leaving this house."

"Newsflash, Daddy. I'm eighteen. I can do whatever the hell I want. Now get out of my room. I'll let you know when I leave."

She expected more of a fight from him. She really did. His only daughter was leaving - for good if everything worked out the way she wanted it to - and all he really cared about was his new girlfriend. He stared at her for a few moments then turned around, slamming the door as he left.

She had won the battle of wills. Hank had left. Then why did she feel so horrible? Oh, yea. Maybe it was because her "father" cared more about his precious new girlfriend's feelings than those of his daughter. Yea, maybe that was it.

Buffy collapsed onto her bed. Lying back, she went over in her mind everything she would need to pack. It took her several moments to notice the tears streaming down her face.


Buffy was suddenly jolted awake - ending the dream. Was it only this morning that she had left Los Angeles after that horrible fight with her father? It seemed like ages ago. Of course being stranded on the side of the road may have had something to do with it. And what was that noise?

Then it hit her: the noise that had woken her up from her less-than-pleasant dream was an engine. A car was headed towards her!

"Oh, thank God!" Without a second thought, she threw the car door open and jumped out. In the distance, she saw a light getting closer. Excitement raced through her. She was saved! With a squeal she started jumping up and down, waving her arms. Not that the driver could see her - it was pitch black. But that didn't stop her enthusiastic actions.

"Wait a minute..." Cars usually have two headlights. Unless one of them was out. But the closer the vehicle got, the less it looked and sounded like a car and more like a ---

"Motorcycle?"

Instantly all her relief and excitement turn to fear. In her mind's eye she saw the pilot of the bike. Huge, bearded and tattooed. Smelly - with a beer belly and a ponytail. She shuddered. The kinds of guys she normally saw riding bikes weren't exactly the most upstanding looking citizens. And with the way her luck was running lately, even if the creep stopped, he'd probably want some sort of "payment" for any assistance he gave her. She shuddered again, but what choice did she have? There had been no other cars on the road tonight. She was starving and tired and she so needed a shower.

"Please let this be a good idea..." Buffy muttered and started waving her arms again as the motorcycle got closer. She had to shield her eyes as the light came to shine on her. The cycle passed her but it was slowing down. Buffy turned to watch as the motorist turned around and came back her way.

"He's stopping. That's good. It means he's a nice man who wants to help me and not a psychotic serial killer." Taking a deep breath, Buffy plastered a smile on her face as the cycle came to a halt right in front of her. Momentarily blinded by the light, she squinted and turned away.

"Well, what do we have 'ere?" A suspiciously familiar voice, filled with mirth asked.

Buffy turned to look at her "rescuer" when he dimmed the light a bit.

No. Please, no. This can't be happening. I'll take bearded and tattooed any day over this...

Finally, her eyes adjusted to the softer light and she got a good look at the driver. His trademark smirk was firmly in place, a helmet rested under a leather clad arm. With an amused snort and shake of his head, he grinned at her.

"Hello, cutie."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Spike." She practically spit out. Oh, how she hated him. His stupid hair and his stupid clothes... and who really wears shoes like that anyway? "What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, princess." He raised an eyebrow and she immediately accepted his unspoken challenge.

"None of your business," she snapped, haughtily crossing her arms over her chest and fixing him with a cold glare.

He chuckled. No one could amuse him quite like little Miss Summers. "Oh, it's not huh?"

At the bored expression she gave him, he shrugged. "Don't wanna tell me why you're out here, wavin' down whoever happens to come along?"

"I *said* its none of your business."

"Okay, then." He winked before slipping his helmet back on. "Suit yourself, sweetheart."

Buffy cringed as he revved the engine to life. He was the only person that had been by in *hours*. What if no one else happened by? And at least she knew Spike wouldn't hurt her. He might irritate her into committing homicide, but he would never hurt her. Could she be sure that the next person who came along would grant her that same courtesy?

She made a split-second, pride wounding decision then. And just as the bike began to move, she jumped in front of him.

"Bloody hell, woman!" Spike yelled, turning the bike off and jerking the helmet off again. "Are you insane?!"

Buffy swallowed. "I need your help." *God this is hard.*

"And clearly me runnin' you over is ---"

"Spike, please," she interrupted him before he had a chance to berate her. "I'm tired, and its dark, and no one knows where I am, and I don't want to be here anymore."

Her voice took on that whining quality that she was infamous for, and he had the perfect smartass reply for it.

It died on his lips as he looked at her. *Really* looked. Even in the moonlight he could tell she was exhausted and maybe...scared?

He sighed and cursed himself, all the while avoiding her eyes as he ran hand over frustrated hand through his hair. Finally he looked up, defeated. "What's the problem, princes?"

He watched as he shoulders slumped in relief as she whispered a quiet 'thank you'.

He grunted in reply as he got off the bike and pushed it until it was off the road. Walking over to the car, he placed his helmet on the hood. Buffy cringed but kept her mouth shut. He was helping her...he could put his helmet there if he wanted to. If his stupid helmet scratched it, then it was a small price to pay for his help.
Spike saw where her gaze was smiled. Snooty little chit. He patted his helmet for good measure, hoping it might leave a scratch or two on her perfect little pink car.

"So," he began, anxious to get this over with and get on with his trip, "What happened? Flat tire?"

"As if. I could totally have handled that."

Spike chuckled, "Right."

"I could!"

"Anyway...Is it the engine? Cuz if that's the case then Daddy got screwed. Didn't he just buy this atrocity for your birthday?"

"It's not the engine...And my car is *not* an atrocity!"

"Summers, it's pink for Christ sakes."

"My father had it specially made. There's not another one like it in the whole world."

"And thank God for that."

"Would you just lay off my car please? Its not like your motorcycle is any better. And *don't* get me started on the De Soto---"

"You shut your mouth Summers, unless you want me to shut it for you."

"Fine," she ground out. She really didn't have the energy to argue with him tonight.

"Pop the hood and I'll see what I can do." He moved to grabbed his helmet.

"I told you its not the engine...I, uh...I ran out of gas."

"You're shittin' me."

"No," she replied miserably.

"Oh, this is *rich*!" He laughed loudly, fighting tears. "I always knew you were a ditz Summers, but this..." He broke into a laugh again.

"I know it was stupid, Spike. But I really don't need this from you right now. I left L.A. in a hurry and I wasn't thinking clearly---"

"Obviously."

"Bite me."

"Only if you promise to bite back."

"Could we not? Seriously. Once was enough and I'm never goin' back *there* again."

Spike smirked. "Wasn't as bad as all that, was it?"

"It was worse." She dismissed his blatant flirting. Their one night together had been a year ago and it had been nothing to him but a quick fuck. She certainly didn't want to relive those embarrassing, and though she'd never admit to anyone - painful, memories. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Well what would you have me do, your highness?" He felt his anger rising. "In case you didn't notice I don't have a gas can strapped to the back of my bike."

She let out a frustrated growl and threw her hands up as she stalked away from him.

Spike tried desperately to *not* notice the sway of her tight little ass as she walked away. He really did. Her indifference to their one night together cut him deeper than he'd like to admit. So he set to cut her, deeper. "Why isn't your big poof here with you? I'm sure he would've been much more help than I am."

Of course, he knew where Angel was. If locker room talk was to be believed, Buffy had finally given it up to him a week before Graduation. He'd dumped her the next day... *after* she woke up alone and tracked him down. Then bragged about it to a locker-room full of jocks. Internally he smirked. It had taken Angel years to get into Buffy's pants. It had taken him one night.

Buffy froze at his question, momentarily thrown off balance. She suddenly turned on her heel and glared at him. "Why don't you just shut the hell up, Spike? You don't have any idea what you're talking about."

He smirked at her, almost -*almost* - enjoying her obvious pain and humiliation. He had hit Angel in the locker room that day. Numerous times. Until Angel's buddies grabbed him and let the tosser get in a few hits to his ribs before the coach had come in and broken it up. Luckily, Coach Anderson let them all get off with a warning since they were all Seniors and they'd all be graduated and gone within a week. His ribs were still a little sore from the incident. He hated the fact that he felt obligated to defend her while she held nothing for him but contempt.

And the way she was acting toward him now. It broke his heart. She'd never see him, not really. He wasn't good enough for her - he knew it. But it hurt that she was as devout in that belief as he was.

He laughed humorlessly and shook his head. With a sick smile on his face, he met her eyes. "I shoulda just kept drivin'." He grabbed his helmet off the hood. "Don't know why I even bothered to stop." With another disgusted look thrown at her for good measure, he started toward his bike.

"I don't either! It was certainly out of character. But this is *much* more like it."

That was it. His breaking point. He whirled around to face her, angrily throwing his helmet away from him as he stalked toward her.

He looked like a man on the brink. Nervously, Buffy began to back away, until her back came in contact with the side of her car. She looked around for an escape, but he was already there, in her face. His dark eyes glaring menacingly at her in the moonlight.

"If I remember correctly, Summers," He whispered roughly, placing his hands on either side of her, blocking any escape. "It was *you* who did the leaving that night. Not me. I woke up and *you* were gone. And the next time I saw you, you were suckin' Angel's tongue down your bloody throat."

"Oh, like you even cared!" She retorted, suddenly looking as angry as him. "That night meant nothing more to you than it did to me! Three days later you were with Harmony!"

She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling mere inches from his own. Her flawless bronzed skin was flushed with anger. She'd never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment. And if this moment was all he had left with her, he'd be damned if wasn't gonna make it count.

Before Buffy knew what was happening Spike's lips were on hers, his hard body trapping her against the car. His hands were everywhere and she melted into them without hesitation - the same way she had a year ago.

Buffy moaned as his mouth abandoned hers and took up residence at her neck, biting and sucking at her salty skin. The taste of her was driving him mad.

How had he gone a year without this? Without her taste, her scent - her hot little hands clinging and clawing at him desperate to have their bodies closer.

Spike removed his hand from it's place on her hip and moved it along the side off the car, clumsily feeling around for a moment before finally opening the door. His mouth left her neck and she cried out at the loss. She looked up into his eyes, questioningly.

"Spike?"

"Get in."

Without hesitation, she turned and ducked into the backseat. Spike pulled his duster off and shoved it through the front window before following her. He immediately closed the door and wasted no time pulling her to him and maneuvering them until they were laying across her backseat with him on top. In a matter of seconds, her shirt was gone closely followed by his own.

Spike hissed as their skin met, marveling at how hot and silky she felt. "God, luv. You feel so good."

Buffy's only response was to pull him closer, attacking his lips with her own. He was driving her crazy. He was so close to her, on *top* of her, but it still wasn't enough. She needed more.

"Spike? Spike, please..." she begged when he suddenly broke the kiss.

"Shhh, luv. You're okay. I've got you." He whispered, as his head dipped to take one lace covered nipple into his mouth.

Buffy balked beneath him, trembling violently as he alternated from gentle sucks to quick little bites. "Oh, God..."

He smiled against her skin as she moaned and writhed beneath him. She was something to behold, his girl.

"Spike...Spike," she was breathless and nearly delirious with desire. Spike released the pebbled nipple from his mouth and gazed up at her.

"Want somethin' baby?"

"I need more. Please, please..."

Without a word, he slipped his hand under her to the clasp of her bra. With her help it was soon gone and Spike immediately lowered his head to continue his earlier torture. The first touch of his mouth on her bare breast was enough to have Buffy feeling she might explode from the sensation.

When his head moved to shower her other nipple with the same attention he had given the first, his hand slide down her leg. Slowly, he ran his fingers under her skirt, just barely touching her thighs.

Her sharp intake of breath made him smile and, feeling braver, he moved his hand upward, allowing his thumb to graze her wet panties.

She jerked beneath him before gasping, "There Spike, touch me there.."

He pulled away from her breast and smirked at her before slipping a finger inside her panties. "Right here sweet?" He asked, gently running a finger between her folds.

"Spike..." she was whining again. And god help him, he loved it.

"How 'bout here?" he whispered as he lightly rubbed her clit.

The arching of her body accompanied by a moan that made him nearly come in his pants was all the answer he needed. He continued stroking her for several long moments, listening to her moans and whimpers. Finally, he couldn't take anymore.

Buffy was on fire. The things this man could do with his fingers should have been illegal. He was so tender with her, touching her so gently that it nearly made her weep. On the flip side, she wanted to come so bad she was ready to scream. Suddenly his touch became bolder, faster. She was so deliciously close - right on the edge - when he pulled away.

"S--Spike? What---"

"Sorry princess. Need to be inside of you." He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her soundly while his left hand worked it's way into his back pocket. Feeling his wallet, he slipped it out and felt around the compartments until his fingers found their target. He pulled the condom out, tossed his wallet to the floor, and ripped it open with his teeth.

Spike reached between them to unfasten his pants only to find them already open. He pulled away and looked at her. "Vixen."

She grinned saucily at him before sliding her hand into his pants and gripping his rock hard cock.

He hissed as his eyes closed. "Oh, fuck."

He allowed her to stroke him a few more times before he grabbed her hand and stilled it. "Can't take much more of that, sweet."

She smiled at him, cupping his face with her free hand.

The look in her eye made him tremble and he anxiously turned his attention back to the condom.

Buffy watched as he rolled it down his impressive length and trembled as his eyes met hers. The way he was looking at her... It made her feel beautiful. And *special* for the first time in a long time. She pushed the feeling aside. It could be examined at a later date. Right now, she needed him.

"Spike," she barely recognized her own voice.

"Pet?" His too, was rough with passion.

"Get inside me. *Now*."

"Yes m'am," Spike replied with a grin. He quickly situated himself between her legs, taking his painfully hard cock in his hand and positioning himself at her entrance. "Anyone ever tell you, luv, that you're a bossy little *chit*?" With the final word, he thrust into her.

Buffy screamed, clawing at his shoulders as she came violently around him.

Struggling to hold himself back, Spike looked down at her, pure awe written clearly across his face.

"You," he kissed her gently. "Are magnificent."

He kissed her once more, slowly, giving her time to recover from her first orgasm.

"Hope I didn't break you, pet. Cuz I'm nowhere *near* done with you yet." He whispered as he began slowly thrusting in and out of her welcoming depths.

After only a moment, she began meeting him thrust for thrust, and Buffy couldn't help but think that they were made for each other. He filled her to the point of pain - sweet, searing pain. And she knew she'd miss it when this was over. God knows she'd missed it this last year.

Then he twisted his hips just so, and all thoughts fled. She clung to him as his thrusts sped up, quickly taking her back to the brink.

She was strangling him; he was drowning in her. "Buffy...sweetheart...gonna cum..."

Her only response was to latch her mouth onto his shoulder and bite down.

"Fuck," he whispered.

He was seconds away - but he needed one final push. Quickly, he reached between them and roughly pinched her clit. Buffy screamed as she came apart in his arms.

Spike roared to completion barely a second later.

They were still then except for their labored breathing; their arms and legs tangled together.

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy..." he murmured quietly, reverently in her hair. "My beautiful, sweet girl."

Her only response was to hold him tighter, the aftereffects of their coupling too powerful for her to speak.

They lay still for several minutes until their breathing returned to normal. Spike felt her shiver and pulled away.

"You cold, luv?"

"A little."

"Don't go anywhere." He grinned before kissing her nose.

He slid out of her and they both groaned at the loss. Quickly, Spike removed the condom and tossed it out the window. Then he moved to grab his duster from the front seat and her shirt from the floor. "Here sweet." He helped her pull the tank top back on before pulling her back into his arms and draping his duster over them. "Get some rest, princess. We'll figure this all out in the morning."

Buffy wasn't sure if by "this" he meant the very incredible sex they'd just had or if he was simply referring to getting them both back on the road and on with their separate journeys. By the time she had worked up the nerve to ask him what he meant, Spike was fast asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She was stiff. And hot. Squinting against the morning sun, Buffy rubbed her eyes. The events of the night before suddenly assaulted her and she felt a small smile creep over her face. She sat up, groaning as her muscles protested. Yawning, she leaned over and opened the door.

"Spike? Can we hurry up and decide what we're gonna do, please? I'm really hungry and I need a shower." She knew she sounded whiney, but she couldn't help it. She felt gross. When Spike didn't answer, she slide out of the car.

"Spike?" Shielding her eyes, Buffy looked around but didn't see him. She was alone again.

Spike was gone.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For several long moments, Buffy simply sat in the backseat, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Her present situation was the last thing on her mind as it paled mightily to Spike's betrayal. What really got her was that she wasn't even angry at him. She knew that she had been awful for leaving that night. What they shared had been special. Her whole view on sex and life had changed after their one encounter. And she'd known...or at least thought that it had been just as special for Spike. And that scared her.

So she bolted, and went right back to Angel. She hated herself for doing it, but after seeing him all over another girl she felt somewhat vindicated in her actions. She actually managed to convince herself that he had been playing her; that his sweetness, his caring had all been an act. She knew now that that wasn't the case. Only hours ago he had been yelling at her. Yet, as angry as he had been, he had been so attentive, so gentle with her.

It was her fault he was gone. She had driven him to it. And she couldn't find it in herself to hate him for leaving her.

Her stomach growled and she laughed.

"Wonder what it feels like to starve to death..." she said, almost casually. She reached into the front seat and checked her cell phone. It still had no service. A sound somewhere between a growl and a sob escaped her as she threw it across the car disgustedly.

Fresh tears pooled in her eyes and she threw her head back, desperately trying not to let them escape. She needed to stay calm and figure out what to do. She closed her eyes as her head hit the seat. Then suddenly, they were wide open again. She'd recognize that sound anywhere now.

"Spike," she whispered, jumping out of the car and into the road. Relief weakened her legs as she saw him approaching, even faster than he had the night before.

He was coming back for her! Her joy was short-lived however, when she realized what she must look like. She practically dove back into the car, checking her appearance in the mirror. Frantically, she grabbed for her purse and pulled out several tissues and began wiping the tears and sweat from her face. When she finished, she frowned at what she saw. Her face was splotchy and sweat had rid her of her make-up long ago.

Since there really wasn't anything to be done for it, she tossed the tissue down and stepped back out of the car. He was slowing down now, coming to a stop. He passed her and pulled off the road in front of her car. Buffy ran to meet him.

He was already off the bike by the time she got there. He barely had his helmet off before she was on him, her arms around his neck squeezing him tightly.

To say Spike was pleased would be an understatement. He half expected her to be miraculously gone when he got back. Far-fetched, yes. But his insecurities always did run deep. Instead, the girl of his dreams, the woman in all his fantasies was nearly squeezing the life out of him.

"Sorry I didn't make it back before you woke up, pet. I had a little trouble finding decent breakfast food."

She squeezed him tighter. He hadn't left her! He was coming back all along.

"You brought me breakfast?" She pulled back to smile at him.

"Course I did. Can of gas too...Have you been crying?"

She stiffened. "No." She abruptly pulled away, suddenly refusing to meet his eyes.

"You thought I left you out here, didn't you?" He tried to keep the accusing tone out of his voice, but it was difficult. After what they'd shared the night before, how could she think that of him?

"No. I mean...I didn't...I just woke up alone and figured...that you got what you wanted and left. And in the leaving, you also got y'know...even with me for leaving you..."
She trailed off, uncertain of what to expect.

"Buffy, look at me."

She took a deep breath and forced her gazed upward, dreading the look on his face. But instead of anger or pity or even contempt, she saw sympathy.

"He really did a number on you, didn't he pet?"

She turned her head again, not wanting him to see her shame. Angel had been a horrible mistake. For *years* the bastard had sworn his love and devotion. And when she finally submitted to him - gave herself to him completely - he betrayed her.

Without a word, he picked her up and deposited her on the seat of his motorcycle, placing a hand on either side of her and leaning in close.

"Look at me." He repeated his earlier order.

When she didn't comply, he reached up to stroke her cheek and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Buffy," he whispered.

Finally she looked at him, her eyes wide and wet.

"Why didn't you just wake me up? I could've gone with you."

"Only got one helmet, pet. And I don't really fancy your pretty little head all smushed."

She laughed, even as a few tears managed to spill over.

"Don't cry, kitten. Please. I'm not angry. Not at you anyway. Just that pillock you called a boyfriend. I ever see him again---"

"Don't." She put a finger to his lips to silence him. "I don't want to talk about Angel. I don't even want to think about Angel, okay?"

Spike licked his lips and fought back a growl. "Alright, sweet. We won't spoil our morning with talk of him." He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. Pulling back, he stared into her eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you are absolutely gorgeous in the mornin' sun?'


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

An hour later, the couple once again lay together in the back seat of Buffy's car. After eating the doughnuts and juice Spike had brought back for them, they had somehow managed to get back in the backseat for another round of incredible sex.

Buffy stretched against him, feeling more at peace than she had in a long time. He had loved her slow this morning, worshipping every inch of her.

"Spike?"

"Hm?" He answered, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"I'm sorry. For before..."

"'S alright, kitten. You're tired and the last twenty-four hours have been rough, yeah? No hard feelin's, okay?"

"Not this morning. I mean, I *am* sorry for this morning... for doubting you. But I meant for leaving you. After our first time."

He didn't respond for a long time. When he finally did, his words freed her. "I forgave you for that a long time ago, Buffy."

"Thank you." She responded quietly.

After another long pause, Spike spoke again. He was getting uncomfortable. And much to accustomed to having her in his arms. This just would not do. "So pet, you ready to be on your merry way?"

"Yea," she somehow managed to sound more confident than she felt. "Ready to hit the road."

"Right then." He slid from beneath her and fastened his pants. "You get your cloths, uh...situated and I'll go gas the car up."

"Okay."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mere moments later, and much too soon for either of their tastes, Buffy was dressed and her car was running. Spike seemed different, suddenly. Distant. He had barely spoken since he left the backseat of her car.

"So," Spike tilted his head at her. "Where you headed?"

"Texas."

"What's in Texas?"

"It's more like what's *not* in Texas? And that would be my Dad." She sighed. "I'm going to stay with a friend for a few weeks. I wasn't really planning on going back to L.A., like ever..."

"But?" he asked as he pushed his bike into the road.

She smiled, leaning against her car. "My plans have changed. I mean, maybe there's something left for me in L.A. after all...?"

"Think so?"

"Yea, I mean---"

"You'll have to let me know how it all works out. I mean I hope it does, for you."

"Well, I was hoping...you'd be around for that. For the 'me going back to L.A.' thing." She looked so insecure and Spike could have kicked himself. That was it: his opening. But he couldn't take it. She had already hurt him enough. After everything that had happened back home, with Buffy; his on-again, off again girlfriend Dru; his many mistakes like Harmony and Amy. He had burned too many bridges back home. Hell, two days before graduation, his own father had kicked him out of his home. He never had learned to keep his mouth shut.

But more than all of that, he needed to be free. He had to get away from his past and make a new life for himself. At least now, after last night, his memories of Buffy would consist of more than waking up with nothing more than her scent on the pillow. He would remember her under him, surrounding him. Glowing and glistening in the moonlight. But more than that, he now knew what it was like to wake up with her in his arms. And that would have to be enough.

"So...you're not...I mean, you're leavin' L.A. for good then?"

"That's the plan."

"Where then?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Didn't really have a destination in mind. I was just gonna keep ridin' 'til I found someplace worth stayin'."

"Oh.'

'Yea.'

Buffy sighed. She knew she didn't deserve another chance with him. But she really expected Spike to jump at the opportunity to see her again. She couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Well, thanks. You know, for everything. I should probably...get going."

"Yea, you should. Take care of yourself, Buffy."

She forced a smile. He felt his heart constrict.

Damn, she was gorgeous.

Sauntering over to the car, he leaned over for one last kiss. When he pulled away, they were both breathless.

"So?" his voice was barely above a whisper. "I guess I'll see you around then."

"Maybe someday we'll both make it back to L.A."

"Yea. Maybe." He sounded more confident that he felt. When he left L.A. yesterday he was so sure that he'd never set foot there again. And now, out of the blue was Buffy soddin' Summers, of all people giving him a reason to go back to Los Angeles... maybe for good.

Fuck it. No way. L.A. hurt too much. And no matter how pretty Buffy Summers was, or how good she made him feel, Spike forced himself to accept that she wasn't worth it. In the end she'd only hurt him again. She *wasn't* worth it.

Without another word, he turned and headed toward his bike. Taking a deep breath he climbed on and put on his helmet, never once giving Buffy a second glance. He moved to start the engine. Her voice stopped him.

"Spike."

He looked at her then.'Removing his helmet, he shielded his eyes. "Yea?"

"Just thought you might wanna know...you're a better lay than Angel."

Minx.

"Bloody right I am!" He grinned and she laughed.

Hell, maybe she was worth it.

With a final smile, Buffy put the car in drive. This time, his voice stopped her.

"Summers."

She looked over at him - all black leather and attitude. Sweat poured from his golden tipped curls down his face and his white t-shirt clung to the wet muscles of his chest and stomach.

Damn.

"Yea?"

"You uh...You think you might need an escort to Texas?"

It took a full second for his words to sink in. It was the longest second of his life. Then she smiled.



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


That's all folks. This fic was never meant to go any furthur than this. However I may do a prequel showing *exactly* how Buffy and Spike got together for the first time - it depends on the interest for it, I guess.
Also, I want to thank sammie for catching an error I made. I appreciate it !
Again, thank you all for reading.